


Holiday Blues

by pinkdrinksandmusic



Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: Damen owns a coffee shop, Laurent is thirsty, M/M, Pining!Laurent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-16
Updated: 2019-11-16
Packaged: 2021-01-31 16:42:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21449410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pinkdrinksandmusic/pseuds/pinkdrinksandmusic
Summary: It wasn’t until Laurent was standing in front of the door to his favorite coffee shop that he realized he was there.
Relationships: Damen/Laurent (Captive Prince)
Comments: 14
Kudos: 178





	Holiday Blues

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by these tweets: https://twitter.com/tenderkings/status/1191494018519187457?s=20

It wasn’t until Laurent was standing in front of the door to his favorite coffee shop that he realized he was there.

He stood there for a moment, still in his surprise and wonderment. He stood there long enough for the coffee shop’s owner, Damen, to see him through the window. After doing a double take, he came over and opened the door.

“Hey, a bit later than usual,” he said.

It clicked.

“Oh, you’re closing.” Laurent went to look at the time on his phone out of habit, then remembered his battery died when he was greeted with a blank screen. “Sorry. I lost track of time. I’ll come by tomorrow.”

“Wait.” Damen reached for his wrist. His hand warm against his chilled skin. “You want a cup of coffee? I’ll make it decaf.”

“You’re closing.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

Laurent wanted to be mannerly and not be any trouble, but the day had been rough, the whole damn year had been rough. The late autumn chill had made his nose cold and it was starting to lightly rain.

And Damen was pulling him in and Laurent was letting himself be pulled.

He led Laurent to his favorite table upstairs. The walls along the upstairs were lined with bookshelves. Laurent often brought his own book, but sometimes he peeked through the shelves and found some interesting books to flip through. Sometimes Damen, when coming by to ask how he liked his coffee, would sit with him for a moment and they’d flip through something together, or they’d just talk about…whatever came to mind.

It was as if they were friends.

But of course they weren’t, not really. Laurent had yet to see Damen outside of his work.

Laurent sat at the table, near the windows and glass doors that led to the balcony. During the day he could see the water from there, but the night was dark and the rain was getting heavier. He liked the sound of it.

“You’re sure it’s not a problem?” Laurent asked as he eyed the workers putting up the chairs and cleaning everything.

“Don’t worry about them, they still get to leave once they’re done. I think I can handle you on my own,” Damen said with an easy smile.

Laurent looked away when he felt his cheeks warm. He had plenty of ideas of how he’d like for Damen to handle him.

He watched Damen as he went down the stairs and, once the employee finished putting up the last chair, followed after him. The lighting in the room was dim and comfortable. As he waited for Damen, he went to the bookshelf and looked for something to flip through as he passed the time.

In just five minutes, Damen was back with a red mug with a gold lion design on a matching saucer. There was enough whip cream on top that it went over the sides and down the mug.

Laurent happily accepted it.

“So, what has you out this late?”

“Thinking.”

“Anything you want to share?”

“It’s nothing worth talking about.”

“I’m sure that’s not true. Even if it is, I like listening to you.”

“It’s just holiday stress.”

“Ah, I’m not very familiar with that.”

Laurent rolled his eyes. “Of course.”

“What’s got you stressed? Gift shopping? I can help you with that.”

“You’re a good gifter?”

“I am.”

“So modest,” Laurent said, teasing and feeling lighter than he had since the last time they spoke.

“So is that it?”

“No. I’m not…the best gift giver, but I can manage, though now that I know you’re an expert in that area, I might call on your help anyway.”

“I’m at your service. So what is it then? If it’s not gifts…”

Laurent looked down at his mug, thinking. He didn’t often open up to people. He didn’t…he wasn’t experienced in it. Even with the few people he’d allowed close to him in his life, there was always a limit to what he would let them in on. He had never found or met someone he was comfortable letting in completely. He was a man made of walls, and he never wanted company in them.

But Damen was different.

Sometimes it made him feel foolish, that he had allowed himself to trust a man he’d never spent time with outside of his work to such an extent. There was just something unexplainable about Damen, something his logical mind couldn’t pinpoint because the feeling wasn’t based on logic. It was just a feeling, an addicting one at that.

Making his decision to trust that feeling, he looked back up and saw Damen waiting patiently, then said, “I miss my family and friends back in my hometown. I was planning to go back and see everyone for the holidays, but those plans just got canceled. This will be the second year I’ve spent the holidays on my own here instead of home with my family.”

Damen’s expression became soft and understanding. “That’s certainly harder than gift buying. Spending the holidays by yourself can be lonely.”

“I don’t mind being alone,” Laurent said. “I came here to be alone. I wanted to move out of my hometown and start fresh somewhere. I love my family, but I wanted a change of scenery and to live by myself. I lived with my parents through college and commuted and there were days it drove me up the wall and I just wanted _space_ and to feel independent from my family. I looked for jobs in different cities as soon as I could. But it’s the holidays. I’m used to spending my time with my family and enjoy it. We have traditions I used to love looking forward to. Now it’s become a thing in the past and I’m just…”

“Nostalgic in a sad way?”

“Yes.”

They were interrupted by feet coming up the stairs a bit later, and Laurent took the chance to drink his coffee.

“Hey boss, we’re all done so we’re heading out,” said Pallas, one of the waiters that worked there.

“Alright, lock up for me will you? You can shut the lights off downstairs too,” Damen said as he raised his hand in goodbye.

“Of course. Have a good night. You too, Laurent!”

Laurent nodded at him. “Have a good night.”

And then he was gone and they heard the sound of the workers leaving, the door closing and locking behind them.

“What about you?” Laurent asked, getting Damen’s attention back to him. “Are you seeing your family this holiday?”

“Not this year. I run this place by myself and have to look after things. We’re a new business, so I can’t afford to close to take the time off. Not this year.”

Laurent recalled that the shop just opened up half a year ago.

“Your family won’t visit you here?”

“My dad doesn’t want to travel this far north in the winter. Too cold.”

It was on the tip of Laurent’s tongue to offer his company. Instead he drank from his mug again.

“Do you like it?”

“You know I do. You have the best coffee in town.”

“Just in this town?”

“Fishing for compliments?”

“From you? Always.”

Laurent felt his cheeks warm and smiled into his mug as he took another drink.

“Tell me about your family,” Damen said, his elbows on the table as he leaned a bit. Laurent was aware of how easy it would be to drag him into a kiss.

“What do you want to know? I already told you about my brother.”

“What about your father? You rarely speak of him.”

“He spends the holidays watching sports.”

“What teams does he follow?”

“Not the ones you do.”

“I don’t think we can be friends then.”

“Me or my father?”

“Your father. We’re already friends.”

“Is that all we are?”

He tensed when he realized what he’d just said. He wanted to take it back, or to make some joke about Damen wanting to be friends with his dad, a man he’d never met, but the words died on his tongue and he couldn’t move.

Damen’s eyes, as dark as the night sky, were on him and he was overwhelmed by how badly he wanted them to remain on _only_ him.

When Laurent found his voice, he said, “It’s getting late.” He drank the rest of his coffee in a rush.

“Do you want me to take you home?”

_I’d rather you just take me._

“I’ll be fine.”

“You can stay over my place if you’d like company tonight. I live close.”

“I don’t mind being without company.”

“I do.”

Laurent mulled over it. He’d been wanting to spend time with Damen outside of his workplace for awhile. He hadn’t been able to ask Damen out, like he wanted, because he only ever saw Damen at work. It wasn’t right to hit on people at work, though he was honest enough to admit that they flirted.

“I’ll take the couch,” Damen offered.

“Of course you would,” Laurent said, feeling his body slowly loosen up. “I think I’ll take you up on your offer.”

They went downstairs, Damen taking Laurent’s mug for him and leaving him by the door as he disappeared into the kitchen. When he came back, he had a to-go cup in hand.

“You didn’t have to,” Laurent said as he accepted the cup. “You haven’t told me how much I owe you for the first one.”

“I know I don’t, and you don’t owe me anything. It’s on me.” Laurent wanted so badly to kiss him, eyeing the dimple in his left cheek.

There were a lot of things on Laurent’s mind as they drove to Damen’s house. Now, away from the coffee shop, there wasn’t anything holding Laurent back from making a move. He trusted Damen didn’t intend to do anything; however, he also heard enough stories about him to know that if Laurent gave him the signal he wouldn’t deny him. One of the waiters, Lazar, had a big mouth when it came to gossip.

He was already feeling the temptation to give him that signal. The only issue was, Laurent wasn’t the most experienced person in the world. So he spent the time on the road daydreaming all sorts of ways to approach him, which transitioned into fantasies of all the things he wanted to do with Damen, like climb into his lap, grab his hair, and kiss him how he’s always imagined.

When they got to Damen’s apartment the first thing he noticed was how clean and tidy it was, though it was no surprise. He remembered Damen mentioning how he hired someone to come to his apartment to clean once a week so he didn’t have to stress about his place being a mess. Laurent himself was someone who liked things clean and organized and was pleased to find Damen was the same. He was loath to admit it though, because the reason it pleased him was because he was thinking about the future possibility of them living together…and they weren’t even dating.

Since neither of them had eaten yet, Damen warmed up left over pasta for them – garlic shrimp Alfredo – and rather than dirty up two plates, they ate it out of the container while facing each other at the kitchen table.

“You know, you can always spend the holidays here.”

“You’re inviting me to spend the holidays with you?” Laurent’s mind had no problems imagining all the ways that could go. Laying together on a warm rug in front of the fire, limbs entangled, hands in Damen’s hair as he…

“Yeah. My friends and I used to do _Friendsgiving_ all the time.”

Oh.

He couldn’t stop the frustration he felt at it, but he decided he could help it. One of the things that attracted him to Damen was his honesty and boldness. He made Laurent want to be more honest, specifically with his feelings, too.

“Damen, do you want to have dinner with me sometime?”

“We are having dinner.”

Of course there was also this side of Damen too. He loved to tease Laurent as a way of flirting. Sometimes Laurent would just stare at him, mustering up an unamused expression, or roll his eyes, but in all honesty flirting with Damen was fun and he didn’t mind being teased by him, even when he thought he should. Like now.

Instead of being bothered or annoyed, he felt the tension ease out of him.

“I would like to take you out sometime, if you’re interested.”

“Take me out?” Damen smiled at him in a lazy and pleased way. “Are you asking me out on a date?”

Laurent’s heart was nervously thumping, but he kept his voice bold and clear as he said, “Yes.”

“Then yes.”

Laurent’s heart started pounding for a more pleasing reason: excitement. His mind was quickly filling up with ideas of where to take Damen, what they could talk about, and where the night could take them after they ate.

“You’re thinking about it,” Damen said, sounding a little surprised.

“I’ve _been_ thinking about it.” The admission made his cheeks warm and he fought the urge to avert his gaze. Damen kept his eyes on him and while there was a certain smugness about him, a man used to getting what he wanted, there was also something vulnerable and careful.

Damen said, “I’ve been thinking about it too.”

“I thought you were. You flirted with me all the time.”

“You’re easy to flirt with. Even when I told myself not to, because you were a customer, I found myself doing it without meaning to. I had to keep catching myself. But then you started flirting back, or started flirting with me first, and I stopped catching myself and leaned into it. I almost asked you out so many times, but I was at work.”

“So you invited me here?”

“And so you came here, with the same intentions?”

Laurent smiled.

“When were you planning to ask me out, in the middle of all that _Friends_giving talk?”

“I wanted to spend time with you tonight, then bring you breakfast and coffee in bed tomorrow…and then ask you out.”

“Wanted to see me wooed beforehand?”

“Yes. I think you deserve to be wooed.”

Laurent wasn’t prepared for it. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt this way. He felt _giddy. _He couldn’t wipe the smile off of his face even if he wanted to, but he didn’t. He wanted Damen to see him as he truly was. That feeling was also new for him. He’d become so used to putting on a mask of indifference, but he didn’t want that here.

“Well. It looks like I’ll get to woo you first,” he said as he ate the last bit of pasta.

“I look forward to it.”

“And you know. You don’t have to take the couch. I’m sure your bed is big enough for the both of us.”

“Getting a head start on courting me?”

“I thought I was wooing?”

“I like the word courting more.”

Laurent laughed and said, “Who even uses either of these words anymore?”

“Please. Don’t act like you don’t like it.”

“I wouldn’t dare.”

“So, since you’re taking me out to dinner,” Damen said as he went to wash the container. “Does that mean you’ll come over for the holidays?”

“We’ll see,” Laurent said, resting his chin on hand. He already knew he would, but it was fun to leave Damen hanging a bit. It was worth it to see that cute little frown he sometimes made. It made Laurent want to get up from the table and kiss him.

So he did just that.

It wasn’t immediate. He walked up to him, stood close enough that their sides were touching, and waited for Damen to put the container aside and turn toward him. That little frown turned into a soft smile and Damen reached up to brush his hair behind his ear. Laurent couldn’t help but to lean into his palm, keeping it there.

Then there was no space between them anymore and he was finally in Damen’s arms, kissing him how he’d always imagined: slow, deep, and long. The kind of kiss that was meant to be kept private, just for the two of them.

When they parted, Laurent was sitting on the counter with Damen between his legs. He had his hands in Damen’s hair and kept him close, their noses brushing.

“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted this,” Damen said, and Laurent felt his body respond to how rough his voice was.

“You think I haven’t wanted this for just as long?”

Damen groaned and pressed their foreheads together.

“Stop it. We haven’t had our first date yet.”

“I’m surprised. I didn’t think that’d stop you.”

“You don’t want it to?”

“Like I said. I’ve been waiting a long time too.”

And with that, they went to bed and lost themselves in each other.

They spent the holidays together, that year and every other year after. As lovers and family.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me at [tenderkings](https://twitter.com/tenderkings)


End file.
